


what the water gave me

by entitled



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Blood and Gore, F/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-07 12:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19084807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entitled/pseuds/entitled
Summary: Rio sets up a deal with a new kind of criminal, but the water can be cruel.





	1. the world's a beast of burden

They pull her from Lake St Clair, dirty and too injured to fight back. She's not in prime condition but she's real. They've found her. In the low evening light it's hard to see what colour she is but her tail is spotted and doesn't come off when they drag her along the ground by it. Must be properly attached. They put her in a tank and store it in a warehouse near the water. Her tail is so long it curls up the side of the glass. She snarls at them with a hundred teeth in her mouth and her pectoral fins flare aggressively. They ogle her breasts nonetheless. She pulls her hair over herself, around her body, and snaps at their faces.  

* * *

 "It's in here." The man-boy-man is nervous. He has an ugly, uneven cut on the side of his face. Looks fresh.

"They." Rio responds, striding across the warehouse floor. It's been recently swept but could do with a power-wash.

"No, uh, just one." He says. 

"Yeah, singular." Rio passes him only the smallest side glance. "Ain't right to apply our culturally understood notions of gender and shit to a different species."

"Oh."

They come to the plastic flaps dividing this room of the warehouse from the next. Not tight on security, apparently, these guys. Hopefully their catch is still in one piece. Rio shoulders through the plastic divider and into the room. Five men and one mermaid. 

"Alright boys, gimme the details." Rio pretends to give the mermaid a cursory once-over but he notices most everything. Dirty skin, no shine to the creature's dusky, spotted scales, the cuts and fat bruises of what look like an outboard motor propellor around the shoulders and belly. And, if he's honest, the sunshine hair and generous curves of the creature. Not precisely what he expected. His body thinks,  _woman_ , amongst other things, but his mind thinks,  _you don't know yet_. Rio doesn't even know if mermaids have names, let alone genders. 

"Caught her in Lake St Clair, think she's been hit by a boat but she's still alive." One of the men shares, beady eyes looking hungrily over to at the tank. 

"Anything I don't already know?" Rio clicks his tongue against the top of his mouth as though he's disappointed. At the noise, the mermaid's eyes flicker open. Nostrils and gills twitch at the same time. The men in the room look at each other in slight confusion. "Fine." He nods to Carlos, who slides a fat duffle bag along the ground towards the group of men. One of them takes it and they leave Rio and his men to his purchase. 

"Boss?"

"Yeah, yeah, go on and deal with them." Rio dismisses them.

Eyes on the mermaid, he makes his way over to the tank. When Rio reaches the glass he jerks his chin up. Watching with him careful grey eyes the mermaid rises out of the water, making a funny gurgling noise before their gills flatten against their neck and they visibly breathe through their nose.

"You got a name?" Rio asks, hoping that in the fantasy of all of this, the creature somehow speaks English.

"Not one you could say." The mermaid flashes rows of viciously sharp teeth at him. Voice clear as a bell and distinctly feminine, but Rio avoids assumptions. Assumptions get you killed.

"How 'bout one I can say?" He quirks an eyebrow. That tooth-filled mouth opens and what comes out... okay. "How's Elizabeth then?" That's as close as he's going to get, realistically. Not that it matters much.

"Fine." The mermaid scowls at him. "Why am I here?" 

"Oh, Darlin', that's 'cause I bought you." At that the mermaid's face creases with fury. Their tail lashes violently against the tank. Water sloshes over the glass, wetting Rio's shoes. He pulls his gun out of his waistband and tucks it under the mermaid's chin, tilting it up. Their gills flex but they stop moving. Surely a mermaid would never have seen a gun before but the dangerous chill of the metal seems to send a universal message. "You a lady mermaid or a guy?" He asks. "Or some' else?"

"Mer woman." Elizabeth responds.

"Great to meet you." He jerks the gun slightly and it tilts her head further back. The lights suddenly catch her eyes at a new angle and they glow inhumanly. That eyeshine common to predators and other animals but not found in the human eyeball. The gills that, when they pulse, show pink flesh beneath. That tail, so long and flexible. Elizabeth was no fake. "You're going to make me a lotta money."

"What, are you going to send me to one of those circuses or something?" She sasses him with a gun at her throat.

"Nah, nah I ain't into that shit." Rio grins. His teeth may not be sharp like hers but he's no less predatory. "You just goin' to a guy who's gonna pay me a lot more than I paid these idiots." At that, several muffled gunshots sound from outside. 

"No." She denies him. She denies him while trapped in a tank of water. She denies him with death itself touching her skin. 

"You don't get to say no, Darlin'." Rio presses the gun deeper into the pale flesh under her chin. "You don't got anything to bargain with."

"But I do." As she speaks the water bubbles strangely and suddenly her tail is gone and there's a whole bunch of one normal human woman in the tank. Rio flicks his eyes along her shapely legs and up to the crux of them and skates up over her hips and her neat little waist and up over her breasts and past the barrel of his golden gun and into her gleaming eyes. "If I have legs you can't sell me and if you kill me you still can't sell me."

If he would give the thought any space Rio might acknowledge that killing the mer woman was not taking up much mental real estate at that precise moment. 

"What's your proposal then, Elizabeth?" He clicks the safety off the gun. She doesn't blink at the noise. 

"I can... transport things for you without passing Border Control." She licks her lips. Nervous. 

"How do you know what Border Control is, Ma?" Rio tilts his head to the side. "You live in the water." 

"Not all of us, not always." Elizabeth blinks once, slowly, and seems to draw confidence from it. So there were more of them. Maybe he could catch one more docile than her. "I could move product without a trail."

"And how do I know you ain't going to take my product to the bottom of Lake Superior and never come back?"

"You clean the lakes." She smiles at him and it's a funny, feral thing that doesn't reach her eyes. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"We need the water clean to live. If you help me, I'll help you." She licks her lips again. But this time it doesn't seem to be out of nerves. Rio returns the safety on the gun and tucks it into his waistband. He considers her. One mermaid - mer woman - how much could she carry and still swim through the water? Her tail was much longer than the legs in their place right now, but still. 

"Put that tail back." She does, in a small flurry of bubbles. He regards her down his nose. "How much can you carry?" 

"Four... uh," Elizabeth's tail swishes. Hiding something. "A whole 'nother one of me. Maybe a bit more."

"Hmm." That tail of hers is pure muscle. Could he tag her like biologists do the animals they study? But is she really an  _animal_ animal or just a different kind of person? Would he tag one of his boys? "How much you want that lake clean?"

"Lakes." She clarifies sharply. "We live in all the lakes."

"The whole Great Lakes region ain't small." Rio says. She has the audacity to roll her eyes at him. He's tempted to pull his gun out again.

"Smaller than the ocean, human." She calls Rio a human like it's a _thing_. He doesn't like it. 

"I got more product than just you can carry." He almost laughs when she looks around the warehouse curiously. "Nah, not here Mami, this was all just for you." 

"I have... sisters." She holds her shoulders strong but her eyes are animal-desperate. Good. "A blood-sister and a brood-sister." 

"Don't know what any of that means  _Elizabeth_ , but if you think three mer... women can do the job..." He flicks his eyes over her again. Her injuries are ugly and despite the fresh water in the tank she's filthy. How fucking dirty are the lakes, really? She looks almost self-conscious when she pulls her hair around her body, covering herself. So Rio gives her a slow wink and runs his tongue over his teeth. Her gills and pectoral fins ripple once, twice. Interesting.

"Do we have a deal?" Elizabeth sticks her left hand out of the water at him. He laughs. She recoils, brow furrowing indignantly. 

"Yeah, Ma, we got a deal but you put the wrong hand out." He reaches out with his right hand. The thought that she might take off a few of his fingers with those teeth skitters cold down his spine but then her hand is in his and she wobbles in his grip for a moment before retreating. Her skin is wet, obviously, but not clammy like he expected. It's warm-blooded and alive. There's a small amount of webbing between her fingers that stretches from her first to her second knuckles. It's not unpleasant at all. "We gon' get you moved to our setup and we'll talk details tomorrow." 

Rio leaves the room before he starts to stare at her like one of the idiots who caught her. Carlos holds the duffle of cash while the other men deal with the bodies. 

"Bet we could feed one of 'em to her, don't you think, Boss? Those teeth huh." Carlos falls into step with Rio. 

"You fish much, Carlos?" Rio asks. He already knows the answer. "What's her tail remind you of?" 

"Probably most like a musky... a, uh, muskellunge." 

"Hmm." 

* * *

The new men load her into a different truck. She can smell blood and death and smoke with her face out of the water but she doesn't go back under because the tank water is stale and hard to breathe. It's full of her own filth. They strap the tank to the floor of the truck and roll the hatch down. Darkness. In a short amount of time she can make out the edges of the tank, the glow of her own skin and scales. Then there's movement.

Her babies are schooling with 'Annie's Sadie and 'Ruby's little ones. 'Beth knows they'll take care of her children if she never makes it back home. 'Ruby's little girl who is so sick from the pollution pooling in their waters. She's the first of them but 'Beth knows she won't be the last. 'Beth's oldest is already showing signs of illness. It's personal for her, pure business for the man with the golden gun and black, beautiful eyes. Personal for her, puts her at the kind of disadvantage she hates. Makes her even more vulnerable than she already is, out of the true water and in a horrible little tank. She lashes her tail. She can't even stretch out her whole length. 

It was twilight when they caught her, 'Beth thinks. One of her boys had drifted off and she'd found him surface-watching. He wasn't far from the school but it spooked her to see his head above the water. She was lecturing him in the shallows about the perils of his behaviour when the boat hit her. She was so caught up in her fear and frustration she hadn't even heard its electric churn. She remembers telling him to swim back to 'Annie and 'Ruby. Then the boat hit her again. She wonders, had that been purposeful? Would they have taken her son if she'd not pushed him deeper into the water? 

She remembers snatches of that motorised propellor hum. Flashes of light like bubbles. Being pulled from the water, choking until her respiratory system made the switch. Being dragged across ground much sharper than the lakebed. Darkness. The tank. The men leering at her. Then the man with the golden gun. 

'Beth tenses when the truck stops moving, holds herself coiled tight when they open up the back of the truck. The man with the golden gun is standing in the light of a new, different warehouse, without his gun out. At his nod one of the men reaches into the tank and hooks his elbows under her armpits, dragging her out of the water. Her scales scrape against the edge of the glass and she cries out, kicking her tail erratically. 

"Ay, Sweetheart!" 'Beth hears the golden gun man's heavy gravel voice over her shock and pain. "Relax." 

'Beth looks up and his dark, dark eyes stare back at her. He waves his hand and more men come to help lift her heavy tail out of the tank but he takes over lifting under her shoulders. Four men including the golden gun man carry her to a much larger tank, set up with a filter that bubbles thickly. They carry her up a set of stairs to a platform, then heave her over the edge. She hates this carrying, this weightedness outside of the water. As soon as she is submerged in the new tank she stretches her full length and jets from one end of the glass cage to the other, looping tightly to maximise the room to swim. She moves quickly through the water, washing herself of the grime of the past day. In truth, this tank's water is cleaner than that in the lakes. It's not true water but it is far better than the prior tank, and the filter has already started to siphon out the grit that falls from her skin and scales, the debris that loosens from her hair. When she's done 'Beth surges to the surface and speaks through the gurgle of her respiratory system adjusting.

"I'm hungry." She bares her teeth at the men in the room, at the man with the golden gun. They stare at her like walleyes, except for the golden gun man, who looks at her with a kind of distant lustfulness that seems inherent in his heavy-lidded gaze. He tips his chin slightly and one of the men comes forward with a tub that smells like dead fish. Reaching into the bucket that's been brought over to him, the man throws a good-sized carp in 'Beth's direction. One of her hands spears out of the water and catches the dead fish. She would prefer live catch, like she usually eats, but 'Beth knows she needs any kind of sustenance if she wants to heal quickly. Curling her tail beneath her and settling in the water, 'Beth watches the men's faces as she tears the fish in half along its spinal cord and begins to eat it. Most look a little uncomfortable, others appear nauseas but stoic. The man with the golden gun looks at her and his mouth twists into a smirk. So 'Beth maintains eye contact with him as she devours the carp. She throws the spine and the skull out of the water and onto the platform. She grins. 

The man approaches the edge of the tank so she rises to the surface so she can listen. If the sound of her breathing shifting bothers him, he doesn't show it.

"Still hungry?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and a sly corner of his mouth at her.

"Not for fish." She purrs.

"You gon' stay here 'till those are all healed up." He says, he doesn't ask. "Not going to have the other mer-peoples thinking we hit you with a boat." 

"Did you though?" 'Beth asks, tilting her head in such a way that the light catches in the back of her eyes and she can see him even more clearly.

"Nah." He's not lying.

"What's your name?" She asks, though his golden gun is a good identifier.

"Why you want to know?" He asks as his gaze shutters. 

"How am I supposed to call you if I don't know your name?" 'Beth returns.

"How you supposed to call me just with my name?" He retorts with a small shake of his head.

"Ma-gic." 'Beth wiggles her fingers at him. He smirks.

"Sleep tight, Elizabeth." 

 

 

 


	2. and time goes quicker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for talk of uh eating people,, typical mer stuff you know

The golden gun man's warped voice pulls 'Beth from her rest state. The gravel from his throat is softened, but the deep pitch vibrates through the water. His face, staring openly at her, wobbles behind glass and water. She called out to 'Annie and 'Ruby both, last night. A weak connection without true water surrounding her. 'Beth was loose on details with them, but she shared her plans to have the lakes cleaned. A negotiation. That's what last night had been. Kind of.

A fish is thrown into the water - an average-looking bass. 'Annie would find that funny. She eats the fish the same way she had the one prior. This one is fresher than the last, somehow. As though someone had caught it this... morning? Weak grey light filters in from the high opaque windows. When she finishes, she surfaces with the least-appetising bony remains of the fish, tosses them at the man's feet. 

"Wow, Darlin', the way you eat those fish is really some' else." There's an almost lewd tone to his voice that has 'Beth snarling half-heartedly while rolling her eyes. She gurgles while she shuts down her gill processes and sucks a big breath in through her nose. The golden gun man smells clean, the smooth flat smell of washed cotton and a sharp cut of good cologne and the warm dry smell of masculine human. She breathes it in again. "You eat people like that, too?" He asks. She freezes in the water, only her caudal fin twitching to regulate her buoyancy. 

"We haven't done that for a long time." She says carefully.

"Oh, oh really Ma?" He laughs, throwing his head back. The bird tattooed on his neck stretches in full flight. He tucks his chin between his thumb and forefinger, hand curling in a loose fist around his mouth as he continues to stare at her. "Tell me about it." He demands quietly. There's only him up on the platform, one man by the door. Does he not think her a threat? Though, she supposes she's not got the predatory advantage of dark, cold water, of her sisters and their song. 

"It was... before me." 'Beth picks the words through her teeth, watching golden gun man purse his lips smugly and narrow his eyes. It's a lie and he knows it, she can tell. Though she was just a child the last time she ate human flesh. She remembers the thick tear of muscle and sinew, so much more to work with than when eating fish. She remembers the blood, oh the delicious smell that lingered for days in her hair until she swam it out. "I barely remember the stories, as a child."

"Oh," the man nods with false earnestness. Or maybe it's authentic and he really wants to see how long 'Beth will keep lying for. She keeps her face steady. "How old are you, Mami?" 

"I, uh..." She and Annie only started counting in calendar years since Gregg... well. She's honestly not sure. 

"Nah, sorry Ma, it's rude of me to ask a lady her age." 'Beth can't tell this time if he's laughing at her or himself. "What happens to the bodies that get dropped in the lakes?" He's soft and then he's blunt, gentle then sharp. It's dizzying. 

"Oh, uh... some of the elder ones... they, well, eat them." She wonders if he's going to have a problem with that. 

"You got those pipes they're always talkin' about, too?" He asks. 'Beth blinks, trying to work out what he's said. "D'you sing, Darlin'?" 

"Yeah, yes." Why is that important? They don't really do that anymore, certainly not anywhere they can be heard above water. "It's more of a group thing, though."

"For hunting?"

"Yeah." He's intuitive, unfased by her strangeness to him. Perhaps he's met other mer? But no, while he's a caustic interrogator, his questions are still too curious to be from someone familiar with her people.

"So tell me when the last time was you ate human." 

Oh, fuck. 

"I was very young; I wasn't involved in the hunt." She allows. 

"How's it used, though?" His constant jumps in thought are jarring. 

"Songs?" He nods. "In a circle around the prey."

"Oh shit!" He laughs and the bird at his throat flies again. Though she feels he laughs at the things she says, she likes the deep richness of his mirth. "I watched a documentary about whales blowin' bubbles in a circle to hunt."

"Yeah." 'Beth shrugs. Her ocean-dwelling ancestors are much further back in the line than those who regularly hunted for human flesh. 

"Wanna give us a show?" Golden gun man smirks and cocks an eyebrow at her. Sing? For him? Right now? What kind of song? Surely not the one they use to stun groups of fish when she and 'Ruby and 'Annie hunt. 'Beth flounders briefly. "Ah, Baby, you shy ain't you?" He flicks a hand over his shoulder and the man at the door leaves. "Go on then." It isn't a request.

'Beth thinks for a moment. She's never used it but she remembers what it sounded like when it echoed back through the water, the way it tightened and lifted when ships sank, the sharp crescendo when bodies struggled in the water. To sing she has to sink down into the water to her chin, submerging her gills and switching her respiratory function. It starts off quiet, a little clumsy because 'Beth's never had to use this kind of music. Hopefully it will unsettle the man with the golden gun without actually injuring him like a different song might.

'Beth closes her eyes and thinks,  _want_ , she sings,  _desire_. Come into the water, you know you want to. Come, to my arms here, I'll keep you safe. Let it all go, come to me. Listen closely to my song. Look how nice the water is, don't you want to be in here with me more than anything? Isn't this what you want? Isn't this all you've ever - 'Beth stops before she can take the song any further, lifts her gills out of the water, opens her eyes. The man with the golden gun is closer to the glass than he was before but he stands firm. 'Beth can read the physical willpower involved from the tense lines of his body. He's crossed his arms tight across his chest. The tendons in his neck stretch, the bird at his throat curling its wings. His black eyes stare heavily at her. His eyes strike her, that's what his gaze feels like - a blow. 

"You got other songs or just that one?" He rasps, voice dark, eyes dark. 

"Others... too dangerous, though." She doesn't know why she admits this kind of thing to him, but there's something private about the man, something that told 'Beth he wasn't one for sharing secrets or not-secrets or much at all, really. The cockiness has dropped from his face for the moment, anyway, and it's been replaced by a dark intensity that draws 'Beth closer to the edge of the tank, closer to him. 

"Okay, Mami." He chokes out a laugh, and that's how 'Beth knows she's got to him. It gives her a little curl of pleasure in her belly to have that kind of power, despite how stoically he remained outside the water. Maybe if she'd kept singing... "Okay." 

"We only use songs to hunt." She concedes. 

"My name's Rio." He gives her. "How you gonna use that to call me?" 

* * *

Rio watches her sink below the water again, her hair and fins swaying gently with the movement. A small bubble escapes her mouth and then he feels a pushing against his mind. Like the intrusion of a headache but not painful.  _Rio_ , the thought ripples over him, subsuming him gently. "How do I talk back?" He grits out. 

_Just think outwards, I'll hear you._

"So you-"  _you can read my mind?_ He asks.

 _Only what you project to me_. 

"Hmm." It could be useful, Rio thinks, working with someone who could communicate non-verbally like this. He slides his eyes over her one last time and then leaves the room before he loses his shit in front of Elizabeth. Working his jaw with frustration, Rio climbs into the driver's side of the Audi he brought over to the warehouse. As he drives back into the city, he feels her mind press questioningly against his. Elizabeth isn't shaping her thoughts into words, but Rio knows what she's asking.  _Later._ He thinks out, then does his best to close off his mind. Thinks about the smooth leather of the steering wheel, the feel of the pedal under his foot, the deep hum of the car. The press of the seatbelt, her eyes - fuck - the one bug squashed on the windscreen, the way her sunshine hair drifts in the water. Fuck.

Rio should've known he was fucked when he first entered that warehouse and saw the most beautiful creature to grace the Great Lakes region. And she's not even human. How fucked is that. Rio can't much give a fuck about it, though, not when she's thick like that. Not when her eyes shine like that. Not when her mouth looks like that. He wonders what her hair looks like when it's dry. Wet and glistening it's like honey around her face, curling around her body. He'd like to brush it off her forehead, follow the lines it forms when she pulls it over her body to cover her tits, her belly. God, Rio thought he wanted her before she sang that fucking song. But during? After? He's never wanted anything like this before. If he'd had even a fraction less willpower, he would have been in that water and at her mercy. As it was, it was very possible that if she'd sung only a moment longer his resolve would have broken. He's curious about the other songs, about what would be more dangerous than that. Because he knows if he were to get into the water, she could end him. Those wide, innocent eyes that flash like metal when the light hits them just so, the sweet pout of her mouth that covers razor-sharp teeth. She's eaten human flesh. Maybe if Rio were a normal man he'd find that off-putting. Maybe there's something more significantly wrong with him because he doesn't. But he's killed people, for his own survival. They're all animals, when it comes down to it. She's just another kind of animal. 

Rio clenches his teeth. Clean up the lakes. That's what she wants in exchange for being released back into the water, for trafficking things through the lakes and rivers for him. The money rolls would transport well, sealed up in waterproof casings she and her sisters could swim with them strung along behind them. But his transport ops for that are pretty smooth as is. But Canada is growing some proper good shit since the legalisation. That kind of transport would make the border crossing of commercial volumes of pot much easier. It's not the most lucrative endeavour but it's a start. 

* * *

The golden gun man, Rio,  _Rio_ , leaves abruptly. 'Beth questions his departure, when he's going to return, but all he gives her is a  _Later_ , and then shutters his mind. She flicks her tail and paces her tank. The glass is too high for her to just grab onto. She needs momentum. Pushing to the back of the tank, 'Beth adjusts her angle, swivelling her powerful fins, then launches herself at the front edge of the glass, getting airborne enough to grab it. She swings herself up over the side of the glass and splits her tail into a pair of legs. Naked and damp, Beth steps onto the platform outside the tank. 'Annie's already meant to be surface-side today, working and then handing Sadie over to Gregg in the afternoon. Gregg, who has been land living since getting with Nancy. Nancy, who doesn't even know, after all this time. 'Beth is still fond of Gregg, years later, but she doesn't understand how he can maintain a relationship so fundamentally based on mistruth. 

She's not sure exactly where she is, but she beacons herself to 'Annie and 'Ruby. Her blood-sister will be able to triangulate and find her. It's no easy life living half-in and half-out of the water, but 'Annie's managed to get herself a part-time job and a little apartment and second- or third-hand car to get around faster. Legs aren't easy for any of them, except maybe Gregg. While she waits for her sister, 'Beth explores the warehouse. The floor is dusty, but the concrete is otherwise smooth. Outside the room they have the tank in, there's a larger open space - the main warehouse floor. It's empty aside from a few shattered wooden crates and a single chair. There's a foreman's office at the top of a narrow staircase, with big grey windows that look back out over the warehouse. The office itself has bare desk and nothing else. The only furnished room other than the one with the tank is on the opposite side of the main floor. It's a gym. 'Beth doesn't know what all the equipment sets are but they look well-maintained if a bit old. The room smells a little of stale sweat, she doesn't know enough of the intimacies of Rio's scent to know for sure if it's his, but she feels like it might be. Rummaging around in the cabinets on the gym's back wall, Beth finds no clothing but she does find a single clean towel. 

Modesty is not a significant concern of 'Beth's, in her normal life. But the people she normally associates with don't wear clothing either. They don't stare at her body like the men she's... met... in the past day do. And when Rio is covered in dark fabric from collar to ankle, she feels strangely bare. So 'Beth wraps the towel around her body, tucking it into itself, before returning to the main section of the warehouse and perching on the single chair to wait for her sister. 

'Beth hears 'Annie, mentally, before she sees her.  _Where... what the fuck? Is this? Place... 'Beth?_

"Here!" 'Beth calls, standing up and moving to where she might be seen from the outside of the warehouse. A door shudders and then bursts open, 'Annie's small frame stumbling through. 

"Fuck, 'Beth, we were worried!" 'Annie's words muffle as she wraps her sister in a tight hug. They're not always super tactile, but the feel of her sister solid, here, present, grounds 'Beth. "How badly are you hurt?" 

"Is Kenny' okay?" 'Beth asks. "It's just some bruising from a boat, nothing that bad." 

"Yeah he's fine," 'Annie pulls away, slides a bag off her shoulder and holds it out for 'Beth. "Clothes. He impressed all the cousins with the surface story, and 'Ruby and I just told them you had some stuff at Gregg's work or whatever. Are you sure you're okay?"

It's a decent excuse, certainly enough to put 'Beth's own children off the scent. Sadie probably saw through it, and could ask his father at any point. But Sadie is a far more discreet individual than his mother. 'Beth pulls on the clothing 'Annie has brought her instead of answering, a soft turtleneck and some loose trousers. Her sister can see while she dresses, the bruises are already turning yellow and grey. Almost the colours of 'Beth's tail. The socks don't match. Short at the wrists and ankles because they're 'Annie's clothes for when she's surface-side, but they'll do. Thankfully they're the same shoe size as each other. 'Annie's about to ask a question when 'Beth hears the roll of tires over the ground outside and feels Rio's mind, suddenly both close and closed off. 

"They're back, 'Annie go hide." 'Beth pushes at her sister, pointing towards the gym. 

"What? No!" 'Annie tries to shrug off 'Beth's insistent hands, but concedes at noticing the wild brightness in her older sister's eyes. 

"The less they know, the better." 'Beth pushes her again. " _Go_."

'Annie hurries across the warehouse floor, throwing a worried look back at her sister before disappearing into the back room just as Rio steps through the door.

If he's surprised to see 'Beth on two feet and fully clothed, he doesn't show it on his face. He's empty handed - no gun visible at the moment - and the same man from the morning is with him. They're both a lot taller than 'Beth, something she didn't notice when she was in the tank, floating above them.

"How long's it take you to swim from here to Windsor?" He asks by way of greeting. The other man stays by the door. 

"Where am I?" 'Beth returns.

"Imagine you're in Detroit, about to step into the river." He smirks at her and she shouldn't like it as much as she does. 

"An hour." 

"How's the bruises?" Rio rumbles, reaching out and brushing her hair back. He lays a hand over her shoulder where they both know one of the propellor marks sits dark on her skin. He squeezes it lightly and though 'Beth flinches under the sharpness of it, she refuses to let her face react. Rio removes his hand just as quickly, though it's left a hot imprint on her body. 'Beth shrugs, as though she can shake off his disconcerting touch and the injury at the same time. 

"I'm fine."

"In two days, then, you and your girls are gonna pick up in Windsor and bring back here." If Rio looks towards the gym at the back part of the warehouse as he speaks, 'Beth thinks it must just be a coincidence. Surely. 

"When are you going to start cleaning the lakes?" 'Beth asks. At that Rio laughs, a strangely sour sound that echoes. The bird at his throat ruffles its feathers. 

"After you prove it's worth my time."

"And what if all this," 'Beth gestures to Rio, to the warehouse, "isn't worth  _my_ time?" 

"Oh Darling," Rio smiles at her, real slow. "We both know you want what I can give you more than I need what you're offering." 

"So why do it then?" Some inner part of 'Beth's mind knows it's a fucking bad idea to antagonise the person who represents their best chance of getting their homes made safe again, but still she asks. Rio's smile grows and he licks his lower lip instead of responding to her. His black eyes dig under her skin, make her want to fidget. He runs a single finger along the left side of her neck, over where her gills would normally be. It tickles and makes 'Beth's breath catch, but she stays standing perfectly still. All that power in her belly from this morning has faded. Now he's got all the power in the room, even without a weapon in his hand, and it's making 'Beth dizzy. She's just a woman, right now. Two legs and nothing sharp about her. The slightly unbalanced look in his eye from the morning has faded, he's all in control again. He could snap her in half, she thinks. Or get his man by the door to. 

"Two days." Is all he says.

"Can I go home, now?" 'Beth asks as Rio turns to leave.

"I don't care." Rio throws over his shoulder, dragging his eyes along her body, her too-short clothes. His mind is so closed 'Beth can't tell if he means it or not. "Long as you're at the pick up spot at nine on Wednesday." 

"Morning or evening?" 'Beth asks as he almost reaches the door. "And how do I know where the pick up spot is?"

"What do you think, Sweetheart? Morning or night?" Rio curls his mouth with amusement at her denseness, and nods at the man by the door, who immediately leaves the room. "And you'll hear it from me." He taps a finger to his temple and then leaves. 'Beth has so many more questions but she knows pushing them against his mind won't open up any answers. She sighs. 

"Oh my God," 'Beth hears Annie's voice from behind. "He's got gang tats."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'beth's tail is a muskellunge tail, specifically the great lakes/spotted muskellunge, so her flank stripes break into spots  
> i feel like my Mer culture is more fluid hence why Sadie already has masculine pronouns and it's not like a Thing when there's not the same kind of societal pressures placed on him from birth, like he can just be as he is and it's nbd - certainly underwater at least


End file.
